Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
While I was at the hospital taking care of my mom, the bleach-blond punk in the bed next to hers suddenly said, “If you don’t stay away from your mother, she’s never going to get better. Not in this lifetime.”
I shot him a look. Clearly this guy had issues of his own.
Then he added, “Don’t believe me? Want to make a bet?”
For some reason, I was curious. Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Bet on what?”
“Your life.” He said it so seriously it sent a chill through me. “We’ll bet your life.”
“And your family doesn’t love you at all.”
He stared straight at me, then let out a mocking little laugh. “Do you believe that?”
I jumped to my feet.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
He looked perfectly normal, but the second he opened his mouth, he said the most offensive things imaginable.
No wonder his body was covered in layer after layer of scars.
With a mouth like that, of course he’d end up beaten badly enough to land in a hospital.
And I was an idiot too.
Standing there chatting with some random bleach-blond punk who kept talking about betting people’s lives.
My parents and my brother had doted on me ever since I was little.
When I was a kid, if my clothes or shoes got worn out, Mom would throw them away and buy me new ones right away.
My brother, on the other hand, had to keep wearing his after they were patched up.
If I wanted gum or rainbow candy, Mom would always buy it for me.
My brother only got sweets once a week.
And that wasn’t even the best example. Just now, my mom had to go for a test.
She was worried I was too tired, so she insisted on calling my brother and making him come take her instead.
When Ryan arrived, he had my favorite milk tea in one hand and the braised duck snacks I liked in the other.
My dad was at home cooking and had already called several times to ask what I wanted to eat.
Every day, they posted in our group chat—One Big Happy Family—telling me they loved me, followed by little “mwah” messages.
And this guy was saying my family didn’t love me?
Not even a dog would buy that.
Right then, my mom and Ryan came back, and I pulled the curtain around my bed.
The bleach-blond punk in the next bed let out a muffled little huff and didn’t say another word.
My mom had already been in the hospital for more than two months.
Which was weird, when you thought about it.
They’d run every test there was.
Nothing serious ever showed up, but somehow she just kept getting sick again and again, never fully better.
At her worst, I even had to help her use the bathroom in bed.
And yet just now, when she went out for her exam, she hadn’t even needed Ryan to support her.
The second she came back into the room, though, she leaned against me and said her dizziness was so bad she could hardly stand.
I looked at her pale, suffering face.
And for some reason…
Chapter 2
Chapter 2
what Evan had just said started echoing in my head again.
People said that when someone stayed sick long enough and doctors still couldn’t figure it out, you started believing in anything.
I couldn’t stop myself from wondering—
Was I somehow bad for her?
Why did she seem to feel worse every time she saw me?
My thoughts were a mess when Ryan reached over and flicked me on the forehead.
“What’s our Sophie thinking about? Tired already?”
Mom immediately wrapped an arm around me.
“Of course she’s tired. She’s taken care of me this whole time.”
“It’s all because my body’s so useless. I’ve only dragged Sophie down.”
“Our Sophie is such a good girl. We’ve loved her so much, and look at her now—who wouldn’t say she’s the most devoted daughter?”
As she spoke, her eyes slowly filled with tears.
The second I saw Mom cry, my own eyes started to sting too.
Then the bleach-blond punk on the other side suddenly clicked his tongue loud enough for everyone to hear.
The sound was dripping with contempt and mockery.
Mom and Ryan both assumed we’d disturbed him.
But I knew better.
That wasn’t for them.
That was for me.
I was already irritated enough, and he still had to sit there throwing shade like that.
I was just about to yank the curtain open and snap at him when Mom caught my hand.
She sniffed hard, then waved Ryan off.
“It’s too noisy with so many people here. You should go. Sophie can stay with me.”
Ryan turned and left without a second thought.
And all at once, something about that felt wrong.
I’d just graduated, and I still hadn’t found a job.
Lately, I’d been spending my days taking care of my mom while searching online for work.
I’d finally managed to land an interview for that afternoon.
I’d told Mom about it yesterday.
She’d praised me, told me I was doing great, told me to give it my best.
She’d looked so happy for me.
So how had she forgotten by today?
“Mom, I have an interview this afternoon…”
By the time I came back to myself, Ryan was already gone.
My mother pressed a hand to her forehead and started groaning that she was dizzy.
Just a second ago, she’d been moving around perfectly fine. Now, all at once, she looked so weak she could barely catch her breath.
“Sophie, don’t go. I’m so scared something might happen to me, and I won’t even get to see you one last time…”
“You know you’re Mom’s little sweetheart. I really can’t bear to let you go…”
“What if the moment you walk out that door, I…”
Watching her wipe at her tears with trembling fingers, my heart softened instantly.
She was right.
What was a job interview compared to my mother?
From behind the divider curtain, the bleach-blond punk on the next bed gave a mocking little clap and hummed twice under his breath.
Chapter 3
Chapter 3
A burst of irritation shot through me.
I yanked the curtain open. “If you’re sick, call a doctor. Quit making those annoying noises over there.”
He lounged against his pillow, then shrugged, spread his hands, and curled his lip at me.
Then he pointed at my mother and mouthed two words.
“Strong mom.”
After that, he flipped his blanket over his head.
That was when I noticed the name card posted at the head of his bed.
Evan Carter.
Evan Carter, my ass. You’re the one who’s “strong.”
Such a poser.
That was my mother.
If she were faking, wouldn’t I be able to tell?
After I got my mom settled down again, I slipped out to the back stairwell.
Maybe it was because of what Evan had said, but I couldn’t stop replaying everything in my head.
When I graduated, I’d already landed a job with a company in another city.
The second I got the offer, I shared the news with my family.
They were happy for me. They praised me. Told me how proud they were, how amazing I was.
Then the very next day, my mom collapsed.
It came on fast and hard.
The hospital couldn’t find the cause, and she never seemed to get any better.
People are at their most fragile when they’re sick.
My mom kept saying she missed me. Every day, she’d tell me just seeing me made her feel half cured.
I had no choice but to give up the offer and come back to take care of her.
And standing there now, thinking back on it all, I suddenly realized—
My dad, aside from bringing food to the hospital every now and then, had gone on with life exactly as usual.
Walks, his hobbies, wasting time however he pleased. None of it had stopped.
And my brother, other than showing up occasionally to do the easy tasks that took no real effort, hadn’t been affected either.
His job, his relationship, his trips—none of it had been interrupted.
Only me.
A chill crawled down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself without thinking.
But then another thought came right behind it.
My mother loved me so much. She wouldn’t lie to me… would she?
For more than twenty years, her love had felt real.
As far back as I could remember, she had never yelled at me, never hit me.
She always spoke softly to me, patiently, gently, coaxing instead of scolding.
Every year on her birthday, her wish was always the same—that I would stay healthy, that I would fly high.
How could a mother like that deliberately ruin my future?
How could she be the one clipping my wings?
I couldn’t think of a reason she would do something like this.
And I couldn’t believe Mom could be that…
Cruel.
The word scared me the second it crossed my mind.
Deep down, I even cursed myself for thinking it.
How could I put a word like cruel next to my mother?
Maybe she really was just too sick, too dependent on me.
Or maybe… maybe she just loved me too much.
“Do you want your mom to get better?”
Evan’s voice came from behind me out of nowhere, and I jumped.
He stood against the wall with his hands in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he looked at me.